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A Wizard Enters A Wormhole
byRobin Cantwell

 



insprinc haptbandun

 

Dustbeams streak in luminescent silhouettes,

                               time-melt, 

                                   paradiso

the seafarer, harbinger of sin, linear elastics;

         a rood for my faith,

    my eyes no longer eyes, but visions,

    visions,

    visions of a scientific masterpiece.

 

The nebula is but a clotted bagpipe;

sonic star maps peer into the fathoms of the night,

 

       until it is I and I alone, 

       trapped in dreamer’s synthesis.

 

We made the Muses sing. History hewn in marrow-bone,

 

      the King is dead, long live the dead King.

 

    Bring me my vellum, in feldspar shall I cast

 

                    the dying formation

 

                                        of a galaxy. 

 

 

 

 

a line, (a blue one)

 

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